


The Summit

by marieelizabeth



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 11:16:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marieelizabeth/pseuds/marieelizabeth
Summary: Pennelope is a wearer of many titles: the Harbinger of the Companions, the Archmage of the College of Winterhold, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Guildmaster of the thieves guild, and most importantly, the Dragonborn. Her destiny to save Tamriel is stunted by politics, and the pressure is overwhelming.





	The Summit

“I never asked for this, Ru! I never asked to be Dragonborn, I never wanted to be tasked with saving Skyrim, from both Alduin and it’s stupid politics! I should have never left Bruma.”

Rumarin knew she didn’t mean that. Pennelope knew she didn’t mean that. She visibly sank into her stone chair and clasped her hands on her face. The two of them had made their way to a back room of High Hrothgar while a break was called during the negotiations between the Imperials and Stormcloaks. 

“I know Penny, it’s not fair. But if it wasn’t you, who would it be? Do you trust the fate of the world in someone like Nazeem? Or even me? I’d end up running away to Murkmire to escape that kind of responsibility.” Rumarin was desperately trying to humor her, to take her mind off reality. Unfortunately, his jokes landed on exhausted, deaf ears.

“Why me? I’m an amateur at fighting, you just taught me how to shoot a bow last year. I know nothing of politics, and I could honestly care less about this pointless civil war. Besides, none of them take me seriously, I’m not even a nord! I haven’t even lived in Skyrim my whole life!” As she continued ranting, her voice got louder as her anger increased.

Rumarin scooted closer to Pennelope. “Hey, everything is going to be ok.” He placed a small kiss on her forehead. “We’re gonna get through this, I’ll be right next to you the whole time.” Pennelope leaned into his embrace and closed her eyes. She relished this moment, a small break before the storm. “And after we can roll these plates down the mountain and see if they land in Riverwood, does that sound like fun?” he asked while motioning to the table of kitchenware beside them.

Pennelope nodded and laughed as Rumarin grabbed a stack of plates and shoved them inside his bag. She knew everything would be alright in the end. She said a small prayer of thanks in her head to whatever divine would listen, thanking them for bringing Rumarin into her life.

The fleeting moment of happiness was abruptly interrupted by Arngier. “Pennelope, you are summoned again at the negotiation table. I would hurry if I were you, they sounded angry.”

“Angrier than when I left them? Seems impossible.”

Arngier shook his head in disappointment. “You two should really be quieter. These halls echo every noise made within.”

Confused by his comment, Pennelope and Rumarin made their way back to the council and took their seats at the head of the table.

“You heard it straight from her. She is simply not qualified to lead this discussion! I knew this truce was never going to amount to anything.” the Imperial General, Tullius, stated in disdain.

His counterpart, General Galamar Sonte-Fists concurred, “At least we can agree on one thing, this was a waste of time.”

Pennelope was stunned. Apparently, Arngier was right, both parties overheard their conversation during the break.

“This cease-fire is vital to the survival of the very land you fight on!” Esbern interjected. “The Dragonborn needs to use Jarl Baalgruf’s palace!”

“Am I supposed to believe in your nord myths? What if this is just a set-up? These negotiations seem to favor the rebels.” General Tullius argued.

“Really? And here I thought I was handing over Skyrim to the Empire with these agreements,” the rebellion leader, Ulfric Stormcloak, countered.

“I am trying to be as fair as possi-”

“What about that elf next to her. She claims that he isn’t with the Thalmor, but I don’t trust him.” Ulfric interrupted.

“Like I said before, Ulfric, he’s my companion. I trust him with my life, so I sure as hell trust him with these negotiations.” Pennelope replied.

Galmar’s disgust was visible on his face, “That elf needs to leave.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I can’t possibly be a Thalmor. I don’t meet their fashion standards.” Rumarin sarcastically claimed.

“Like I stated in the beginning,” Pennelope said while trying to contain her seething anger, “if Rumarin leaves, I leave. Simple as that.”

“That’s fine by me,” said General Tullius.

“I refuse to continue these negotiations unless the Dragonborn is here. But I shouldn’t be surprised by alliances, she is an Imperial after all-” Ulfric Stormcloak argued.

“Enough!” Everyone froze from bewilderment as Pennelope stood from her chair and slammed her fists on the table. “Damn it! I save Solitude from Queen Potema, and the Imperials are angry. I save Windhelm from The Butcher, and the Stormcloaks are angry. I save Whiterun from a dragon attack, and Jarl Baalgruf is unsatisfied. I stopped a Thalmor plot to use the Eye of Magnus, and you all still question my allegiance. I travel the land killing endless amounts of undead and vampires and warlocks and bandits alike, and my skills are still questioned. I kill dragons and my own soul feels like it’s ripping me in half. I’m trying to help mend this broken and doomed universe, but its very people I want to save are against me. Could one thing in this fucking world stay fixed?!”

The room was silent as Pennelope slowly sat back in her seat. Rumarin’s eyes were wide with surprise by Pennelope’s sudden outburst.

Ulfric Stormcloak cleared his throat, “I am smart enough to know what takes precedence. I respect the Greybeards, and if they claim that this Dragonborn is on a quest to defeat the World Eater, then I will withhold troops from the Whiterun hold.

“I am willing to make the last round of negotiations, if all else to humor this nordic myth about Alduin. But mark my words, Ulfric, after the Dragonborn is done with her use of Dragonsreach, we will win the war, and you will answer your crimes against the empire.” General Tullius added.

“It is settled then, both sides will not interfere with Whiterun for the time being,” Arngier said as he dismissed everyone from High Hrothgar.

Rumarin and Pennelope fell into silence as they descended the steps along the Throat of the World.

“Sorry for the outburst back there. I realize it probably wasn’t the most politically correct thing to do. Probably backs up the claim that I’m not fit for this role.” Pennelope said.

“Are you kidding? I think you made Galmar soil his pants!” Pennelope laughed at his statement. “Seriously though, you’re more qualified to lead than those too morons. Everything you said was completely true.”

Pennelope smiled up at her companion. “Thanks, Ru.”

“And, thank you for what you did back there, you know, standing up for me, it means a lot.”

“No one is gonna treat the Dragonborn’s partner with disrespect! The next person who does will get shouted off a mountain!” Pennelope yelled and giggled.

“How about we settle for some plates first?” Rumarin asked while handing a plate to Pennelope. “Whoever’s plate lands closest to Riverwood wins 100 septims.”

“You’re on!”

**Author's Note:**

> Did I steal the rant from Dragon Age's DLC Trespasser? Where the inquisitor yells about how everyone is against them and their hand is about to blow up? No definitely not.


End file.
